


Professor Potter and his Magical Menagerie

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bicorns, Cornish Pixies, Creatures, Fire Crabs, Fluff, H/D Pet Fair 2016, HP: EWE, Hogwarts, Humour, M/M, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Post-Hogwarts, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, Puffskeins, Unicorns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:59:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8059051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: Harry Potter descends on Hogwarts with a horde of magical beasts. Professor Malfoy is not amused.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the super quick beta, M! Love always.
> 
> For [Prompt #154](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Td1Xj4ZNIqFDdQLtMpkOWEqn2hI5TEx8tEtrEU1u1U8/edit).

_I will not poison his tea. I will **not** poison his tea. Despite my unlimited access to fatal and virtually untraceable potions, I will **not** poison his tea._

Draco chanted this mantra over and over to himself as he stormed down the halls of Hogwarts. His black cloak billowed dramatically behind him. It was a new addition to his wardrobe— one that he imagined lent him an air of danger and menace. Now that he was officially the newest Potions Master at Hogwarts, Draco could understand Snape’s insistence on this particular vanity.

Yes, he looked like he’d just come out of a Vampires Anonymous Meeting, but it kept the students in check. Every time he stalked down the length of the classroom with that forbidding black cloak, a flurry of hushed whispers followed him. Oh yes, the wretched little beasts feared him greatly— perhaps just as much as Snape.

The thought was so very satisfying.

All in all, Draco would consider his life to be almost pleasant if it wasn’t for one glaring…irritation.

Draco grit his teeth and left the Castle behind him, stalking through the Grounds with newfound purpose. There were a few students loitering about after class. Some skittered away at once, a few others watched him curiously. Draco ignored them all and headed for his destination— a shabby hut on the edge of the school grounds.

And there was the glaring irritation.

“Malfoy,” Potter greeted with a grin and a wave. He was on his knees, with a trowel and rusty pail by his side. “I mean, Professor Malfoy, of course.”

Draco sniffed condescendingly. “You’re not a student, Potter,” he drawled. “Malfoy is acceptable.”

“Oh, good.”

Potter stood up. He had grass stains on his denim trousers— presumably some odd Muggle fashion— and his hands and face were streaked with dirt. As Draco watched, he ran one of his filthy hands through his hair. Draco tried not to cringe and focused on Potter’s yammering.

“…still not sure of the rules around here,” Potter finished. “It’s only my second week, you see.”

Draco’s eye twitched. “I’m aware,” he bit out.

He still didn’t understand exactly how Rubeus Hagrid of all people, qualified as ‘an expert in the care of exotic magical creatures’ but there was nothing for it. A Hippogriff Sanctuary in New Zealand had requested him for the season and a delighted Hagrid had accepted without a second thought. Draco had at this point, helpfully reminded everyone that since the oaf was a teacher, he couldn’t just hare off without a moment’s notice. McGonagall had subsequently requested Hagrid to find a suitable replacement before he left.

If he thought about the sequence of events carefully, Draco supposed Potter’s sudden arrival at Hogwarts might be his own fault.

Therefore, he did not think about it.

And, as he frequently reminded himself nowadays, this was a temporary situation. Hagrid would be back soon enough and Potter would leave— grass stains and all. And then, maybe Draco could go back to his peaceful, hassle free life.

“So, what can I do for you?”

Draco jumped, suddenly aware that he’d been wool-gathering while Potter waited on him.

“Right,” he said tersely, crossing his arms. He had come down here for something specific, he recalled. And he had been justifiably annoyed too. Ah yes, he remembered now. “I came here to talk to you about a crab infestation.”

Potter’s eyes widened. “What?” he squawked. Draco frowned as colour flew to Potter’s cheeks.

“Crabs,” he repeated, enunciating carefully for Potter’s benefit. “They’re everywhere and it’s your fault!”

“ _My_ fault?” Potter blurted, looking even more horrified. “But I…we never…and I’m _definitely_ not…”

Draco could feel his self-restraint slipping away. “Potter, what in blazes are you babbling about?” he snapped. “Are you or are you not going to take responsibility for your incompetence?”

Potter just gaped at him, wide-eyed and bewildered. He broke eye contact and scrubbed an awkward hand through his hair. “Look. I’m not sure how that…happened. But I’m certain Madame Pomfrey has a spell or something to…you know, clear it up.”

It took Draco a moment to analyse Potter’s nonsensical rambling. When he figured out exactly what Potter thought his problem was, his jaw dropped in sheer outrage.

 _“Fire Crabs,”_ Draco hissed, practically vibrating with rage.

“What?”

“Fire Crabs, you obtuse imbecile!” Draco snarled. “The ones you brought in for your first class with the Fifth Years! Some of them got loose in the dungeons because _you_ forgot to lock the cage and now they’re burning through the last of my sheets!”

“Oh, _Fire Crabs!”_ Potter’s eyes lit up with sudden understanding. Draco’s jaw clenched as the idiot huffed out a relieved laugh. “Thank Merlin! You know, it’s funny— when you said ‘crabs’, I thought…”

“I know what you thought!” Draco barked, ignoring the flush of mortification rising to his face. “Just get _rid_ of them. And ensure that your _beasts_ remain outside the Castle in the future!”

“No worries, Malfoy,” Potter replied amiably. “I’ll take care of it. By the way, nice cloak.”

“I…what?”

“Nice cloak,” Potter repeated. “It’s very…fetching. Black is definitely your colour.”

Draco sneered and stormed off, resolutely ignoring Potter cheerful goodbye. The sound of the man’s jovial whistling and the faint scent of grass lingered with him all the way to the dungeons. It was beyond irritating.

Draco took a deep, calming breath and firmly told himself to get it together before his first class of the day.

And when that didn’t work, he deducted ten points from Gryffindor the first chance he got.

 

* * *

 

“Professor?”

Draco glanced up from the lesson plan he’d been perusing. The First Year Hufflepuff took one step forward in an uncharacteristic show of courage.

“Miss Hernandez.” Draco acknowledged the child with a nod. “Have you finished brewing your Forgetfulness Potion?"

As abrasive and sharp as he was with his older students, Draco made it a point to adopt a gentler approach with the First Years. Snape’s methods— while undoubtedly effective— were not conducive to an interactive classroom environment, and Draco rather enjoyed the imaginative wanderings of curious young minds.

“I can’t, Professor,” Sofia Hernandez informed him earnestly.

Draco tutted disapprovingly and shook his head. “That attitude won’t get you very far, young lady,” he chided. “If you’re having trouble with the proportions I suggest you take another look at my notes to…”

“Um…no, Professor,” Sofia cut in hurriedly. “I meant I _can’t_ brew the Potion.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Well, there’s a small blue man in my cauldron and I don’t want to drown him. But he won’t come out and…”

“There’s a _what_ in your _what?”_ Draco barked.

Several students paused their brewing and stared at him. Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned back to the girl.

“Ms Hernandez,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “Return to your seat and show me this cauldron at once.”

If this was what he thought it was…

Draco’s glare intensified as he peered into the rusty cauldron.

The Cornish Pixie bared its pointy teeth at him, buzzing like an angry dragon fly. Its foot was stuck in a slush of Potion residue, which would explain its entirely unwanted presence in the cauldron. Draco exhaled slowly and rubbed his temples.

The moment he extricated himself from this situation, Potter was a dead man.

“Whoa! What are you going to do, Professor?”

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin as he found the entire class assembled around him, peering curiously into the cauldron.

“Return to your seats!” he snapped.

Naturally, he was ignored.

“Is it dangerous, Sir?” another student chirped.

Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cornish Pixies are notoriously mischievous, Mr Williams,” he replied tersely. “Not to mention, prone to biting. I expect you’ll all have the opportunity to observe them more closely in your next Care of Magical Creatures Class— which it _undoubtedly escaped from.”_

Honestly, it was like Potter was _trying_ to ruin his life.

“Wicked!” Jeremy Williams exclaimed, coming over to take a closer look. The Pixie snarled and shook a tiny fist at him.

Draco was reaching the end of his rope, he just knew it.

“Of course,” he drawled, “there’s no reason why you shouldn’t gain some first-hand experience right now. Anyone who hasn’t resumed their brewing in the _next ten seconds_ will automatically volunteer to not only extract the Pixie and return it to Professor Potter, but also present a twelve inch essay on the uses of Pixie Dust in Potion Making and…”

The class scattered in a record four seconds.

Draco smirked and turned back to the Cauldron. His momentary good humour evaporated as he observed his newest Potter induced predicament. Mentally, he scanned his options. This was hardly his responsibility. There was absolutely no reason for him to bother with this. Really, all he needed to do was dispose off the wretched little beast. Surely there was a Pest Control Potion or something he could brew…

“Professor?” Hernandez gazed at him with huge, worried eyes. “You…you won’t hurt it, will you?”

The class abandoned their work again to stare at him, all of them looking fairly anxious now.

Damned Hufflepuffs.

Draco scowled in displeasure. A class of Slytherins would have never dared questioned his methods. Still, if one of the little wretches went wailing to McGonagall about how evil, heartless Professor Malfoy had flushed an innocent pixie down the toilet…Draco shuddered at the idea of invoking the Headmistress’s wrath.

“Of course not,” he growled. “I’ll simply remove it from the cauldron and return it to Pot…Professor Potter.”

His students didn’t look particularly reassured.

“Safely,” Draco added through clenched teeth.

That did the trick. There was a collective sigh of relief and the students went back to their Potions without any further protests.

Draco grumbled under his breath as he rolled up his sleeves.

 

* * *

 

The Pixie didn’t appreciate the short walk to Potter’s hut any more than Draco did.

“Damn it!”

He cursed fluently as tiny, razor sharp fangs sank into his thumb again. It took him a good minute and a half to shake the Pixie off. It chattered angrily and swung its small fists ineffectually as Draco clamped its wings between his fingers and held it out.

“Oh, do shut up,” he grumbled as he resumed the walk to Potter’s residence.

The man in question was outside again, whistling cheerfully as he stuck a trowel in the damp earth. Once again, Potter was in the process of muddying his clothes for no discernable reason. Merlin, he looked awful. He’d shucked off his robes in favour of a too tight t-shirt. His arms were streaked with dirt. Tanned, toned arms with the barest ripple of lean muscles...

Draco faltered for a moment, then squared his shoulders and marched over. He fumed in silence as he waited for Potter to acknowledge him.

“Oh!” Potter blinked in surprise as he looked up and spotted Draco. His lashes fluttered and the sun caught his green eyes, lighting them to a vibrant emerald.

“You surprised me,” Potter said with a crooked grin. “What brings you here, Malfoy?”

Draco nearly forgot his train of thought, momentarily caught off guard by the mesmerising hue of those eyes. Potter’s brow furrowed and he stood up.

“Malfoy, are you alright?”

Draco jerked back to reality. Flustered and caught off guard by his wayward musings, he nearly forgot why he’d stormed out here in the first place.

“I…I was…that is…”

Potter’s gaze darted downwards, widening when he spotted the pouting Pixie.

“Is that one of my Cornish Pixies?”

The Pixie confirmed this by hissing belligerently. Draco took the opportunity to correct himself and adopt the most disapproving expression he could muster.

“How many times must we have this conversation, Potter?” he demanded. “Why can’t you keep your class subjects under control?”

Potter grinned sheepishly. “You know how Pixies are,” he offered only somewhat apologetically. “Remember Second Year? That one class with Lockhart?”

Oh Merlin, did he ever. Draco still had a vague recollection of Longbottom dangling from the chandelier while Lockhart bleated for calm and everyone scrambled for their lives and dignity. Despite himself, he found his lips twitching at the memory.

“Please tell me your classes won’t be nearly so eventful,” he drawled.

Potter chuckled and shrugged. “Well, I have to step up my game if I want to compete with everyone’s favourite teacher,” he said with a teasing grin.

There was a favourite teacher?

“Who?”

Potter blinked. “You, of course,” he replied in a tone that suggested this should be obvious.

“Me?” Draco echoed incredulously. “I’m certain you’re mistaken.”

There was no way he was the favourite anything. He was sharp and unyielding, he handed out the toughest assignments and he demanded perfection in every Potion.

Also, the cloak.

“My students are terrified of me,” Draco argued.

“That’s not what I hear,” Potter contested. “The younger ones adore you. Apparently, you’re the only teacher who gives points to students for asking questions.”

Draco frowned. Didn’t everyone do that? What was the point of teaching if it didn’t encourage curiosity?

“Well, that might have happened here and there. But I assure you…”

“And some of the Fifth Years told me you’re tutoring them one on one instead of lumping them all in Remedial Potions,” Potter went on, looking rather impressed. “That’s amazing, you really do go all out for the kids.”

Draco shuffled uncomfortably. The tutoring had seemed like a sound notion at the time— he’d hardly wanted any laggers in his class and if the little dullards failed their OWLs, he’d have to deal with them all over again next year. His motives had been unquestionably self serving. He certainly hadn’t anticipated that they would be mistaken for _generosity._ Draco clenched his jaw.

Couldn’t those idiot children get _anything_ right?

“We’re getting off topic,” he announced firmly. “I tire of repeating myself, Potter. Keep your creatures in the grounds where they belong. The next animal to invade my classroom or quarters _will_ end up in the Gryffindor Common Room under mysterious circumstances.”

Potter seemed unfazed by his threat. His eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Speaking of Gryffindor, didn’t you award my old House points just this week?”

Draco frowned at the abrupt change in subject. “One of the third years got her Potion right on the first try. It would have been unreasonable not to reward her diligence.”

“And the week before that, didn’t you give reward another student for substituting traditional ingredients in a Moon Draught?”

Draco was running out of patience. “The boy successfully substituted mistletoe berries with fluxweed— it was a creative approach to problem solving. Of course I awarded points for that! What _exactly_ are you getting at, Potter?”

Potter shrugged. “I’m just saying, that’s a lot of points for one House. Maybe Gryffindor is finally growing on you.”

Draco would have gasped in indignation, if he hadn’t been stunned speechless. The nerve! Perhaps he _would_ sneak a Grindylow into the Gryffindor Quarters! That would teach Potter to make such outrageous assumptions!

Ultimately though, he decided to respond with dignity. He was a grown up now, after all, and hexing a colleague— no matter how insufferable they were— was surely frowned upon.

“Good evening, Potter,” Draco intoned icily, before turning on his heel and stalking off.

“Have a good one, Malfoy! The cloak looks even better from the back!”

Draco swallowed down a slew of curses and quickened his footsteps.

It was only when he was halfway back to the castle that he realised he was still holding the wretched Pixie.

 

* * *

 

The next few days were fairly peaceful and without incident. Potter spent most of his time outside Hogwarts, arranging ‘something’ for his class.

The most Draco saw of him was during breakfast in the Great Hall.

Not that he cared. And he most certainly didn’t look forward to it, what with Potter’s annoying tendency to take up all the space in a room the moment he entered it. Honestly, the man was always so... _upbeat_. He was always smiling and laughing, making easy conversation with Minerva and indulging the children with funny anecdotes and stories.

It was awful.

At least the animals were gone. It had been two weeks since that last incident with the Pixie. Since then, Potter had managed to keep his mad menagerie outside where it rightfully belonged, and there had been no surprises since.

Draco had resumed his peaceful routine, and as he made his way to the Great Hall one fine morning, he allowed himself to relax a little.

He really should have known better.

**_Moooo._ **

Draco skidded to a halt and blinked.

Was that a…? Had he just heard…? No. No, surely not. How ridiculous. That would mean there was a…

 _“Moooooo,”_ the placid lowing echoed through the corridors, accompanied by a round of giggles.

“Come on people, it’s not funny,” a familiar voice spoke over the giggles, sounding resigned and vaguely amused.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose.

Of course.

How did one person single-handedly cause so much havoc? He hadn’t had a moment of peace since Potter’s arrival and by the looks of it, he never would again.

There was nothing for it but to go in there and see what the idiot had done this time. Draco squared his shoulders, affected a bland expression and swept into the hall.

The brown and white speckled cow blinked placidly, surrounded by students. It turned its head and accepted an apple from a giggling Gryffindor.

“Mooooo,” the cow lowed appreciatively and tossed its head. Its gleaming, spiral horns tapered off into pointed tips. Draco had a sudden urge to hiss at the children to back away from the beast. That thing was clearly dangerous. Why on _earth_ was it in the Great Hall?

“Marianne, stop that,” Potter scolded, coming forward and guiding the child a few paces back. “What’s the first rule about interacting with Magical Creatures?”

“If you can’t name it, don’t try to tame it,” a curly haired Slytherin announced.

Potter nodded approvingly. “Ten points to Slytherin,” he announced with a wink and a grin. “So, who knows what kind of creature this is? Anyone? How about the Ravenclaws?”

Draco had just about had enough. “Potter,” he snapped. “Why is there a cow in the Great Hall?”

Potter whipped around, evidently just noticing him. His eyes lit up and his mouth quirked in a sheepish grin. “Well, technically there isn’t,” he offered. “This is a Bicorn.”

Draco’s eye was starting to twitch. “Fine,” he hissed. “Why is there a _Bicorn_ in the Great Hall and why is it eating the Hufflepuff Banners?”

Potter’s eyes widened in dismay. “Bessie, no!” he admonished, grabbing hold of the Badger Banner and trying to tug it away from the Bicorn. “Bad girl!”

“Potter!” Draco snapped. “Get your animal out of here this instant! If Minerva sees it, she’ll have both our heads!”

“I’m trying!”

“Aww, does Bessie _have_ to go?” one of the younger Gryffindors asked. Draco growled under his breath as a few dozen pouts and sad eyes turned on _him._ As if _he_ was in the wrong for wanting that malodorous creature back outside where it belonged!

“Miss Trench, Bicorns are not pets,” he bit out. “As I’m sure _Professor_ Potter can tell you, that animal is dangerous.” He paused to cast a withering glare in Potter’s general direction. “It should never have been allowed inside in the first place.”

“It doesn’t look very dangerous,” a Fifth Year Gryffindor commented. True to form, the idiot child reached out and poked the creature’s hindquarters.

“Mooo,” Bessie protested, lashing her tail indignantly.

“Stuart!” Draco snapped. “Ten points from Gryffindor!”

“But Professor…”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Potter announced, talking over the growing dissent. Draco’s eyes widened in surprise. Potter shook his head ruefully and started to herd the children off. “Professor Malfoy’s right. Bessie is leaving.”

There was a rude noise and a tell-tale plopping sound. Suddenly, the Bicorn wasn’t the only unwanted thing in the Great Hall.

Utter silence descended, broken only by the occasional muffled snicker. Draco’s eyes watered and he brought a sleeve to his nose, trying to shield himself from the worst of it.

He failed.

“Right now,” Potter added hastily. “Professor Malfoy, would you help me...er, escort our guest outside?”

Draco, who was too busy trying not to breathe through his nose, nodded reluctantly. “I get the front half,” he managed.

Bessie blinked at him with huge, brown eyes.

“Right,” Potter agreed. “I’ll just, um...lure her out with…”

“Here, Professor,” someone called. The next second, Potter had an apple in his hand.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed. Bessie was already turning around, trying to get to the tasty fruit. Potter patted her flank and shifted in front again. “Forty points to the first House that gets rid of Bessie’s present before Headmistress McGonagall gets here,” he called to the still assembled crowd.

“Make it fifty,” Draco put in.

Potter grinned at him, as if they were in on some joke together. The nerve. Draco huffed and grabbed the nearest horn— gently of course, the last thing he wanted to do was provoke the heifer— and started leading Bessie out.

“Thanks for offering to help,” Potter said, with a sincere smile. “I appreciate it.”

Draco had half a mind to point out that he _hadn’t_ offered, Potter had roped him into this, but it seemed petty. And honestly, given the mayhem that seemed to follow Potter around like a puppy, he suspected he’d be doing a lot more of it.

“You’re welcome,” he replied wearily.

Potter’s smile widened. He really did have a nice smile. It lit up his eyes, making him look more handsome than ever.

Wait.

Had he just kind of, sort of admitted that Potter was handsome?

Oh, Merlin. Not good. Not good at all...

“Malfoy, what’s wrong?” Potter asked. “You look like you’ve seen a…”

_“Ahem.”_

Draco jumped and Potter started enough to drop the apple. Bessie mooed triumphantly and scooped it up, munching happily.

Meanwhile, Headmistress McGonagall eyed them stonily, making Potter gulp and shrink into himself. Draco swallowed dryly and tried to keep a stoic face through all the detention flashbacks.

“Professors,” Minerva greeted coolly. Her eyes flitted back to Bessie and her lips thinned.

“Headmistress,” Potter mumbled, ducking his head. “We were just…”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Draco protested on instinct.

“It was here when I got here!” Potter added hastily.

Minerva McGonagall gazed heavenwards, evidently requesting some form of divine assistance. When none was forthcoming, she turned back to her former students.

“Well, at least it’s not a dragon this time,” she said blandly.

Draco flushed and Potter mumbled an embarrassed _yes, Ma’am._

Bessie mooed.

 

* * *

 

 He was not even slightly surprised when McGonagall summoned him to her office the following day.

“Of course,” Draco seethed to himself as the Staircase glided smoothly to the highest floor in the castle. “Of course I’m getting fired. This is all Potter’s fault! Him and his wretched beasts! He’s been here _less than a month_ …”

A few portraits whispered amongst themselves as Draco practically stomped over to the Gargoyle. He suppressed the urge to hiss at them.

“Fizzing Whizbees,” he snarled instead.

The gargoyle permitted him entrance without protest. Draco’s ire faded and anxiety settled in its place. Was McGonagall really ticked off enough to fire him? Surely, he could reason with her. He really did like it here, even if he complained sometimes. Often. Okay, all the time, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy his job.

Hell, it was even worth being around Potter again.

No, he couldn’t leave. He was finally doing something worthwhile with his life, something that gave him...contentment and satisfaction, if not outright happiness, and he didn’t want to give it up. He would just have to reason with the Headmistress and show her that he was a mature, seasoned professional who could do the job he was hired to do.

“Professor Malfoy,” Minerva greeted from her desk. “Please, have a seat. I was just…"

“It’s not my fault!” Draco burst out. 

Minerva blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Potter did it! Potter always does it! If it’s not Bicorns, it’s Pixies. If it’s not Pixies, it’s Firecrabs! For Salazar’s sake, how hard is it to keep a few cages and pens locked? It’s not Ancient Runes!”

Minerva sighed and removed her spectacles. “Draco, I’m not…”

“I was trying to fix it! And I didn’t even want to! Potter made me!”

“Draco, please listen. I only…”

“...all over the place! I am sick, _sick to death,_ of his animals running amok in this castle! I deal with the Sixth Years, don’t I? Isn’t that enough? And the _smell,_ Salazar save us!”

“Draco, will you please just…”

“How come Potter gets a free pass? It’s not my fault _his_ Bicorn desecrated this institution of higher learning! Why isn’t _he_ getting…”

“Professor Malfoy!” McGonagall snapped. Sparks flew from her wand and her eyes narrowed to slits. _“Sit.”_

Draco sat.

“Have you got that all out of your system?” Minerva asked tartly.

Draco scowled and slid down in his seat.

“Excellent,” she went on. “Now, I’m certain you have a great deal to say about Professor Potter and his...unorthodox approach to Care of Magical Creatures, but that’s not why I called you here.”

“It’s not?” Draco blurted. So he wasn’t fired?

“Actually it’s about a field trip for the Third Years.”

“Oh.” What did that have to do with him?

“Professor Potter is organising it, and you’ll both be chaperoning.”

Draco bolted up in his seat and gaped at her. “You just said this wasn’t about Potter!”

“I did not. I said it wasn’t about his classes. It’s not. It’s about a field trip. Which you _will_ be attending, Professor Malfoy, make no mistake.”

Draco glared at her for as long as he dared. “Is this my punishment for the whole dragon thing?” he demanded. “Because as I recall, you already took House points for that.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Minerva chided. “The students took a vote. It’s hardly surprising they’d pick their two favourite teachers.”

 _Again_ with the favourite teacher thing?

“Why is everyone in this castle so misinformed?” Draco snapped. “The students dislike me, as they should! I’m harsh and unyielding and demand unreasonable levels of perfection!”

Minerva looked unimpressed. “Indeed,” she replied flatly. “My mistake, Professor. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’ll be accompanying the class on this Field Trip. Dress for comfort and try, _please_ try not to fight, argue, hex or otherwise antagonise Professor Potter.”

“As long as he gets the same warning,” Draco sniffed.

“Oh, I’ve already spoken to Harry. He’s very much looking forward to spending more time with you.”

“What?” Draco blinked in surprise. “Why?”

“I can honestly say I have _no_ idea,” Minerva replied. Her lips twitched ever so slightly. Draco’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but the woman remained stoic and unruffled. “That will be all,” she announced as she returned to her papers. “Good day, Professor.”

“Headmistress,” Draco returned sulkily.

“Oh, and Draco?”

Draco turned around.

“Lose the cloak,” Minerva said. “Some of your female students are starting to entertain some rather...curious notions.”

“What?! It’s supposed to look forbidding!”

“Unfortunately, the effect is less ‘menacing and competent’ and more...what was the phrase the Fifth Years used? Ah yes, ‘dark angel with the wrath of the tempest in his eyes’.”

Minerva finally allowed herself a chuckle as her youngest Potions Master practically fled from the office, leaving the cloak behind.

“Honestly,” she tutted as she returned to her papers. “He’s a piece of work but that boy is _no_ Severus Snape.”

 

* * *

 

 

The woods bordering Hogsmeade village made for the perfect excursion. Draco had been half afraid that they would be traipsing through the Forbidden Forest with a bunch of small children. Thankfully (unlike a _certain_ former Headmaster who sent First Years into that wretched place for detentions) McGonagall was sensible enough to expressly forbid such a thing.

So here Draco was, making his way down a well worn trail with his charges and oddly enough, enjoying himself. Despite his misgivings, this was actually turning out to be a nice day. The Third Years were excited and their laughter and cheerful chatter brought life to the quiet forest. Sunlight dappled through the foliage and a soft breeze fluttered, making him smile. Ahead of him, Potter led the charge, surrounded by awestruck children as he pointed out the homes and hidings of creatures in the woods.

“Oh, this is a good one,” Potter exclaimed suddenly. “Everybody, front and centre.”

The children rushed forward and Draco meandered over as well, somewhat curious.

“Take a look at this,” Potter said, crouching near a tree and shoving some leaves and roots aside to peer at the roots. Draco hummed thoughtfully as he noticed the small, odd patterns scratched out in the bark.

“Who knows what these are?” Potter asked.

One of the Hufflepuffs shyly raised his hand.

“Bowtruckle markings, Professor?”

“Correct, ten points to Hufflepuff,” Potter replied with a grin.

The child beamed and Draco felt a reluctant smile tug at his lips. No matter how annoying Potter was, he did have a way with the kids. They were hanging on to his every word. And he obviously enjoyed their company, judging by his smile and the way his eyes sparkled as he talked to them and...

Sometimes, it was really hard to remember that Potter was an annoying, infuriating git.

“...nest in the winter,” Potter was explaining. “But come Spring, they choose a tree and mark it as their own. The markings on this tree are the work of a Bowtruckle Guardian. It will likely guard the tree for the rest of its life, and attack anyone or anything that tries to harm it. Now who can tell me the safest way to harvest fruit from a Bowtruckle’s tree?”

“Make an offering of wood lice or fairy eggs.”

The words were out of mouth before he even realised it. Draco flushed as every head in the clearing swivelled in his direction. He’d been so caught up in Potter’s impromptu class and mellow instruction, he’d practically forgotten himself.

Merlin, how embarrassing…

“Correct,” Potter declared. His eyes glinted with humour as he winked at Draco. “Well done, Professor Malfoy.”

“Professor!” one of the Slytherins protested petulantly. “I knew that one!”

“There will be plenty of chances to rack up House Points,” Potter chuckled. “Come on, you lot. Let’s move on. Now there’s a Puffskein Patch not too far off. Remember, they’re endangered, so we’re not taking _any_ back with us.”

Draco shared a smile with Potter over the chorus of disappointed _awwws._ The children hurtled off, leaving them in their dust.

A strong hand wrapped around his wrist suddenly. Draco startled, but Harry just smiled and squeezed his hand gently.

“They’ll be busy chasing Puffskeins around for a while,” he said softly. “We’ve got a few minutes.”

Draco swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. Potter was _holding his hand_ and his grip was gentle and firm and it was sending weird...sparky things up and down his arm.

“We...we should follow them,” he mumbled. Potter was still looking at him, all green eyes and soft smile and Merlin, when was the last time someone had looked at him like that?

“We’ll catch up,” Potter replied, tugging his arm and leading him a little way off. “But first, I want to show you something.”

 

* * *

 

They took the long way around and it was a spectacular afternoon, even by Draco’s standards.

The forest made for a wonderful setting, and Potter guided him deeper and further into the woods, pointing out fairy nests, doxy tracks and flitterby hives. The whole time, his hand remained firmly in Draco’s.

“Where did you learn so much about Magical Creatures?” Draco asked.

Potter fell silent for a moment or so. “Here and there,” he answered, a touch evasively. “To be honest, after the War I…”

Draco frowned as he trailed off. Potter raked a hand through his hair and rallied on.

“I went off the grid for a while,” he explained slowly. “I was just so sick of... _everything._ ”

“Like what?” Draco asked. He remembered what the end of the War was like. He’d expected anger and hatred, but what he got was indifference. All of a sudden, Draco Malfoy was invisible. Nobody cared if he lived or died. It had been painful but even he had to admit he deserved it. And in the end, he’d taken charge of his own life. Teaching at Hogwarts was the best thing he’d ever done and he wouldn’t give it up for the world.

Surely, Potter’s experience would be different. He was a hero, a living legend. The War had to be better from _that_ side.

“Like people fawning all over me,” Potter answered, his mouth twisting with distaste. “Congratulating me, asking for autographs, inviting me to parties and events...like the War was something to _celebrate._ It was awful. After a while, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I left the country.”

“Where did you go?” Draco asked. His hand squeezed gently around Potter’s in a show of sympathy. He’d never really thought about it that way.

“I can’t tell you,” Potter muttered.

“What? Why not?”

“You’ll laugh.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Potter, I promise I won’t laugh at you,” he promised, making a show of crossing his heart. “Where did you go after the War?”

Potter shifted uncomfortably. “To the Białowieża Forest.”

Draco frowned. Why on earth would he laugh at that? “Okay,” he offered slowly. “And what were you doing there?”

Potter flushed a deep scarlet. “I...was chosen for a funded expedition to search for exotic Magical creatures.”

Again, this made no sense whatsoever. What was wrong with any of that?

“So?” Draco pressed. “That sounds perfectly...”

“By the Quibbler.”

Draco trailed off. Potter groaned and buried his head in his hands. For a moment, there was silence all around them.

“The Quibbler?” Draco echoed, in an impressively neutral voice. “Luna Lovegood’s Quibbler?”

Potter sighed heavily. “I was instructed to record the nesting habits of Gulping Plimpies,” he explained.

Draco pressed a hand over his mouth. “I see,” he offered, masking his snicker with a cough.

Potter scowled at him. “I can see you laughing,” he grumbled.

“I’m not...not laughing,” Draco managed. “Tell me, did you also see Nargles?”

“Stop it,” Potter scolded, nudging him in the ribs. “I was desperate and Luna helped me out. And to answer your question, no. But I’m pretty sure a Dapperblimp ate all my socks.”

Draco couldn’t help it. This time, he really did burst out laughing. It was just too much. The idea of Potter chasing Lovegood’s head creatures around the forest, trying to record their nesting habits no less...it was a picture that would stay with him forever. He laughed until his sides split and then he laughed some more.

“Well, look at that,” Potter murmured. “You _can_ smile.”

Draco shoved him and righted himself. “And that expedition ignited your interest in Magical Creatures?”

Potter smiled. “Actually, yes. While I was getting chewed up by mosquitoes and fending of Chizpurfles, I stumbled upon something else. A Porlock.”

“A what?”

“A Porlock,” Potter echoed, like that explained anything. “They resemble horses but they’re much smaller. They usually live near rivers. Most of them have shaggy brown coats and cloven hooves. The one I found was black, though. A little fellow with a white star on his forehead.” Potter’s eyes softened at the memory. “Porlocks are shy, they often hide when humans approach. I think that Porlock was the first person or...creature I suppose, that didn’t want anything to do with me. He would run off and hide the moment he saw me. It took me over a week and half my food supply before I could make contact. But when I did...Godric, Draco, you can’t imagine the feeling. That this little creature finally trusted me, it made all the chasing worthwhile.” He laughed softly. “Luna never did get her Nargle article, but I got her some fantastic Porlock photographs for her feature.” Potter turned back to him, the smile still playing on his lips. “And that’s how I ended up here.”

“That sounds nice,” Draco murmured. It really did. Harry had been surrounded by people, but he’d been so alone. Invisible. And yet, a reclusive magical creature had seen the good in him and trusted him. Maybe animals really did have a sense about people. It was nice to know he’d had that.

“What about you?” Harry asked him. “How did you end up teaching?”

Draco scoffed. “It’s hardly a story like yours. The long and short of it is, Minerva gave me a chance when nobody else would. That’s it.”

“Is that all?” Harry pressed gently.

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t have a life altering encounter with a magical being, Potter,” Draco snapped. “Sometimes, what you see is what you get.”

And here it comes. Of course he had to snap. Draco sighed inwardly and prepared for Potter storming off in a huff.

“I think you’re wrong,” Potter said softly.

Draco’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Potter shifted closer. So close that Draco could see the faintest stubble on his jawline. “I think you’re smart. Interesting. Dedicated and passionate. Your students think the world of you, and...I can see why.”

“Potter…”

“Draco, I know you won’t believe me when I say it. So, will you let me show you instead?”

Oh Merlin. Draco stared into those mesmerising, vibrant green eyes and that’s when he knew it. Potter was going to kiss him. They were going to kiss, right here, right now. Oh, he should stop it. This could never end well. It was Potter and him, for Merlin’s sake!

But it was _Potter_ and _him_.

Oh Merlin…

“Okay,” Draco whispered, closing his eyes and leaning in.

“Brilliant!” Potter exclaimed, grabbing his arm and hauling him up. “This way, come on. If we run, we can still catch them!”

Draco squawked in surprise as he was half dragged into the forest.

 

* * *

 

 

“Pot...ow! Will you just...where are we going?!”

“Shh!”

Draco scowled. “Don’t you shush me,” he snapped. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Scarhead! I’m not some...some _Bircorn_ you can just lead around and bribe with apples! You…”

“Draco, quiet! You’ll spook them.”

“Spook what?” Draco demanded. “What are you…”

Potter ignored him and tugged him forward a few paces. He parted the bushes with his hands, revealing a small clearing right in front of them.

Draco’s breath caught in his throat.

“They come here to graze everyday,” Potter whispered. “I don’t think anyone knows, or else they wouldn’t be here.”

The Unicorns were oblivious to their presence. It was a herd of six, Draco noted. Five females and one male, all with gleaming white coats and spiralled horns. Even in the light of the day, they glowed. Two of the females whickered playfully and pawed at the ground. The smallest filly tossed her head and cantered over to the male, whinnying flirtatiously. He nuzzled at her affectionately for a moment, before going back to his silent vigil.

“They’re beautiful,” Draco whispered, utterly awestruck. The last time he’d seen a Unicorn...well, he didn’t like to think about that. But seeing them here, like _this_ , he couldn’t really describe it. They were so noble, so breathtakingly majestic. He didn’t dare move for fear of startling them.

“Come on,” Potter urged softly. “Move slowly.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he pulled back. “We can’t go out there,” he whispered back. “They’ll run off.”

“Only if they sense evil intent,” Potter replied with a smile. “You have to be a truly awful person to spook a Unicorn.”

“Potter, don’t…”

“Draco, please. I just...want to show you what I see. You have no reason to hide. Not from me, and not from them. Now come on. Trust me.”

Draco sighed in resignation, and— yet again— Potter pulled him forward.

“Slowly now,” he whispered, pushing Draco forward. “I’m right behind you. Keep eye contact with the male.”

Oh, this would not end well.

Draco obeyed and took a reluctant step forward.

The Unicorns stilled. Two of the females twitched their ears and whickered softly. The male raised his head and snorted, pawing the ground anxiously.

“Harry,” Draco whispered anxiously. “This isn’t…”

“Just keep going. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Draco swallowed and approached the magnificent creature as slowly as he could. The male was much bigger up close, and clearly protective. He tossed his head and whinnied to the females, clearly warning them to back away. His ears twitched as he regarded Draco with a blend of curiosity and wariness.

But he didn’t back away, and he made no move to attack either.

Feeling just a little bolder, Draco edged forward. “Hello there,” he murmured.

The Unicorn whickered at him. It turned its head to look at him, its silver eyes seemed to look right into his soul.

Draco swallowed and held still. He was close enough. It was up to the Unicorn now.

The male took one step forward. Then another. He whinnied softly. The females cantered in the background, unsure and anxious.

“It’s okay,” Draco whispered. “I won’t hurt you.”

The Unicorn snorted, and Draco could have sworn it was a sound of amusement. He took another step forward, bolder now. Draco managed a surprised laugh as the creature snuffled curiously at him. His hand reached out and stroked the silky mane. The Unicorn replied with an approving whinny, which seemed to encourage the rest of his herd.

The females approached too, all taking turns to observe Draco and search him for treats. Draco indulged all of them with petting and soft words, enjoying their calming presence more than anything.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, surrounded by the purest of all magical creatures but slowly, the Unicorns retreated. The male nudged him gently before turning and cantering off, whickering for his females.

Soon they were gone, the only sign they’d ever been there the hoof marks in the soft ground.

Draco started as two arms wrapped around his waist. A smile tugged at his lips and he leaned against Harry.

“You see?” Harry murmured in his ear. “I told you they’d see you. Just the way I do.”

“Thank you,” Draco replied softly.

“Anytime.”

Draco shivered as soft lips traced his neck. “Harry,” he murmured, shifting slightly in Harry’s grip. Strong hands gripped at his hips, angling him for better access. Their lips met and Draco gasped as those sparks flew down his spine again. Harry smiled into the kiss and carded a hand through his hair, his lips soft and gentle and so...

“Professor, there you are. We’ve been looking all over for...oh.”

Harry froze. Draco closed his eyes.

They broke apart awkwardly, only to find themselves surrounded by a class of wide-eyed Third Years. At least ten of them were cradling their very own fluffy Puffskeins.

“Whoa,” a Gryffindor blurted.

“I knew it,” a smug Slytherin announced.

There were a few high fives exchanged.

Draco cleared his throat and disentangled himself from Harry, who grinned sheepishly.

“So, um...”

“We know,” a Ravenclaw said flatly. “Don’t tell Headmistress McGonagall.”

Draco exchanged a look with Harry. They both nodded.

“Fine,” a resigned Hufflepuff offered.

“But we want a hundred points for each House!” a Slytherin announced suddenly.

 _“And_ we get to keep the Puffskeins,” a Gryffindor put in.

Another round of high-fives.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You’ll get five points each, and the Puffskeins stay here.”

“How about we just keep six?”

“No.”

“One per House?”

“Keep it up and you’ll all be writing essays on the use of Puffskein fur in Laughing Potions,” Draco threatened. “Now put those creatures back where they belong and return here immediately. We leave for Hogsmeade in ten minutes sharp and make no mistake, I _will_ leave stragglers behind.”

The children gulped and cleared off. Draco watched them scatter with a smirk. He rolled his eyes when Harry pressed a kiss to his neck again.

“Stop it,” he scolded. “Haven’t you and your animals caused me enough grief already?”

“Only way I know how,” Harry snickered into his neck.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re not as charming as you think you are, Potter.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll grow on you.”

“I doubt that very much, Scarhead.”

Strong hands wrapped around his waist and turned him around. Harry’s eyes glinted with mischief as he backed Draco into a tree.

“I waited out a Porlock once,” he said with a cocky grin. “I’m a very patient man, Malfoy. And I love a good chase. You don’t stand a chance.”

He leaned in for a kiss, and Draco smiled.

He had a feeling life was going to be a lot more chaotic from now on. It always did with Potter around. But by Salazar, was he looking forward to it.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All comments are extremely welcome either here or on [Livejournal](http://hd-fan-fair.livejournal.com/112680.html).


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